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𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 w/ @touchthelimit music show waiting room, april 2026

RIIOT was promoting for "I'm Him", and Sunny had been camped out in the shared waiting room for twenty minutes halfway through a bag of honey butter chips when Skye from Wonder walked in and ruined his focus. Not because of the face -- though sure, fine, whatever -- but because the second the guy opened his mouth to greet a staff member, that accent came out, and Sunny nearly choked on a chip.

"Wait, say something else," he said before he'd even properly introduced himself, waving Skye over like they were already friends. "Say 'water.' Say anything. I need to hear it again." He wasn't even being subtle about how delighted he was genuinely, sincerely fascinated, like meeting someone from a place with actual kangaroos automatically made you the most interesting person in the building. Skye probably thought he was unhinged, crazy even and honestly, fair, but Sunny couldn't help it; his brain had already decided it was a personality trait and he needed more of it.

Thunder cracked faintly somewhere outside through the window, and Sunny's whole face lit up. "You feel that? Storm's rolling in," he said, dropping into the seat next to him without asking, chips forgotten. "I'm Sunny, by the way," he added, a beat too late, sticking a hand out with a grin that said he already knew this was going to be a good one.

#san:skye

Sunbae...Nim? | @mychaerie broadcast station hallway, waiting room corridor

Sunny hadn't expected to run into anyone in the hallway outside the waiting rooms, let alone her. He clocked the blonde hair first, then the face, and his stomach did something embarrassing before his brain caught up to who exactly he was looking at. Cherry. Han Chaeri. The girl whose group's comeback he'd had on loop in his earbuds for the better part of a month earlier this year. He kept walking, because stopping dead like a fanboy wasn't the vibe he'd built for the cameras, but he made sure his path crossed close enough to hers that a nod wouldn't look forced.

"Hey," he said, easy, like his pulse wasn't doing something ridiculous, "Sunny. RIIOT."

It felt strange introducing himself to someone he'd been watching from the audience side of a screen for years, but different companies meant no guarantee she'd know his face the way he knew hers. He kept his hands in his pockets, working hard to look like a guy who ran into sunbaes all the time and not like someone who'd replayed "Attitude" enough times to know every ad-lib. "Good stage today," he added, nodding toward the direction she'd come from, keeping it short, keeping it cool. There was a whole list of things he wanted to ask her -- what was next for I:RIS, whether the comeback rumors had any truth to them -- but none of that felt like a day-one conversation, so he let it sit. For now, cool was the move. He'd find his way back to her eventually.

#san:cherry

8 count | Self-Para RIIOT Dorm Room wc: 431

The dorm was quiet for once, and Sunny intended to enjoy every second of it.

Practice had run long. Some restaging on the bridge of their newest title track that only he seemed to care about, and by the time he'd showered and changed into sweats, the common room had emptied out. One member was out with a variety crew. Whoever else wasn't asleep had holed up in their own rooms with headphones on, which suited him fine. He liked the members plenty. Loved them, even, well...in the tired way you love people you're stuck living with. But there was a version of tired that made even good company feel like too much, and tonight was that kind of tired.

He grabbed a spoon and the tub of ice cream nobody would admit to buying and dropped onto the couch, feet up on the low table despite the sign taped to it that said not to. The TV stayed off. He didn't need it, his head was still running the choreography from earlier, that eight-count that felt half a beat too rushed no matter how many times he'd tried to sell the change to the rest of them. He drummed the spoon against the rim of the tub instead, some rhythm only he could hear, and let his eyes drift to his phone on the cushion beside him.

No messages from his dad tonight. That was fine. Bruno Vega wasn't exactly a texter. A call on Sundays, maybe a video of Chuy, their dancing cockatoo, doing something dumb and that was the extent of it most weeks. Sunny didn't mind. That was just how his dad was. A quiet but hardworking man who loved you without saying much, and some part of him figured that's just what love looked like.

He thought, briefly and without meaning to, about the other side of his family. He didn't let it sit long. Never did. There was a reason he changed the subject when fans got too curious about his mom, a reason that didn't have anything to do with privacy talking points management fed him and everything to do with not wanting to feel it in front of a camera.

His phone buzzed. Not his dad, a comment notification on a video he'd posted hours ago on TikTok under a name none of the five people asleep down the hall knew. He smiled at that, small and private, and let himself have it.

Then he set the phone face-down, picked the spoon back up, and went back to counting eights in his head.

#san:selfpara

ACTIVITY ONE : ARTIST PROFILE REGISTRATION

Sunny Facts and Profile; Sunny’s Ideal Type

Sunny (써니) is a member of the boy group RIIOT under DSN Entertainment.

#psn:lynkexperience2026

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